Gone, Kitty, Gone

by Eileen Watkins

  Hector Natal stepped forward to shake my hand, with a much more genial attitude than he’d shown in the parking garage. I still didn’t think he was convinced I could be of much help, but if his daughter thought so, he seemed willing to go along with the idea.

  Jaki rose from the low, cream-colored sofa to welcome me. Though far from wasting away, she bore little resemblance to the charismatic star who’d handled yesterday’s interview with such professional poise. She’d muffled her curves under a baggy gray sweater and fashionably ripped and faded jeans. Without makeup, her slightly tawny complexion—I’d read that her father was mostly Cuban and her mother half-Lebanese—looked faded. Her big, long-lashed eyes had a puffiness to them, I guessed either from lack of sleep or from crying. Anyone would have thought someone close to her had died.

  She shook my hand and said in a low voice, “Cassie, thanks so much for coming.”

  “Not at all. I’ll be happy to do whatever I can.” She radiated such a deep sadness that I felt my own eyes tearing up, and fought to control the reflex.

  The two of us sat on the sofa. It faced a large, horizontal abstract painting, which I bet concealed a wall-mounted TV. While Hector and Mira hovered on the fringes, they mainly left us alone to talk.

  “When Perry told me about some of the things you’ve done here in Chadwick, I felt you might understand what I’m going through,” Jaki said. “The police are concentrating on the security guard who died, trying to figure out if it was foul play, and of course I understand that. But in the meantime, I can’t be sure anyone is really trying to find Gordie.”

  I nodded. “And the thing is, the two incidents could be connected. Whoever blacked out the conference room might have intended to steal him and only attacked the guard because he got in the way. So Gordie could be the key to the whole incident.”

  Jaki’s wan face brightened. “You do understand! Everybody’s been asking why I’m so worried about a cat, when a man is dead and I might be the next target. But I don’t see it that way. Someone took Gordie to get to me. I don’t think that person is out to hurt me—not physically, anyway—but they might hurt Gordie. Especially if they actually killed a human being.”

  My estimation of the singer’s intelligence shot upward—Jaki was more than just a great voice and a pretty face. “Do they know yet how the guard died? I got the impression that it wasn’t anything obvious.”

  Fear crept back into her eyes. “We’re not supposed to ‘speculate’ about it, but it wasn’t an obvious killing, like a stabbing or a shooting. The guard was in his fifties, and he did fall down some stairs afterward, but I overheard one cop saying he also had a weird bruise on his neck. So if someone did kill him, they might have done it with their bare hands! That’s seriously bent, isn’t it?”

  If there had been an attacker, I wondered if he had left behind any helpful fingerprints. But if the same person had sabotaged the lights and the fire alarm, he might have been smart enough to wear gloves.

  Bonelli probably would know.

  Jaki wrapped her arms around her body, looking childish and vulnerable in the oversized sweater. “It creeps me out to think it was probably the same person who talked to Mira onstage and took Gordie away in the carrier.”

  “Yes, how exactly did that go? What can you remember?”

  She drew a deep breath, as if she’d already told the painful story several times. “You said you were there for the interview, so you know that I had Gordie on my lap with my arms around him. I left his carrier at the back of the stage. He’s very chill in front of an audience, ’cause I take him out in public all the time, so I wasn’t worried that he’d try to get away. Anyhow, when the lights went out, at first I didn’t move. I thought it was just a glitch and they’d be back on in a minute. But after the fire alarm went off, I started to panic. If it was for real, we’d have to leave the building, and I knew somehow I’d need to take Gordie with me.

  “A few emergency lights came on at that point, and I could see well enough to stand up. Perry was tugging at my elbow, trying to get me out, but I was still worried about the cat. Then Mira came up behind me and said, ‘You get to safety, Jaki. I’ll take care of Gordie.’ I handed him to her and she put him in the carrier.”

  It occurred to me that it might be helpful to know what the carrier looked like, and I asked Jaki.

  “It’s aqua blue. Almost looks like a big purse, except for the mesh openings,” she said. “Anyway, Mira handles Gordie for me all the time, so after that, I figured he’d be safe, and I followed Perry out into the hall.”

  Jaki’s cousin, hearing her name mentioned, edged over to join us. She still looked utterly ashamed at having failed in her responsibilities.

  “What happened after that?” I asked Mira.

  She lighted on the arm of the sofa. “I started to leave, but the back of the room was still dark, and people were kind of stumbling around. I wasn’t familiar with the layout and wasn’t sure how to get out. This guy came up with a small flashlight and started talking fast. He said there was a fire and we had to evacuate. Just then my foot caught on something, and I tripped. I set Gordie down for a second to steady myself, and this guy picked up the carrier.”

  “Did you see what he looked like?” I asked.

  Mira shook her head. “The flashlight in my eyes made it hard to see his face. I just had the impression he was medium height and wearing dark clothes, like a uniform. And had some kind of tag around his neck, like one of the hotel staff.”

  “So you trusted him.”

  A tear rolled down her face. “I thought he must be with security! He sounded so take-charge and confident. He pointed me toward a rear staircase, where some other people were walking down, and said, ‘You go on ahead, I’ll take the cat.’ I figured this guy would be right behind me, with Gordie. But when I got to the first-floor landing, where we finally had lights, I didn’t see him anywhere.” Mira twisted her slender hands in her lap and stole a miserable look at her cousin. “I feel so stupid! I never should have let Gordie out of my sight.”

  “Mira, don’t blame yourself,” Jaki told her gently. “I probably should have stayed behind, too, except Perry was hustling me out. I can understand why you would have trusted the guy. I might have, too, in your place.” But her lovely face crumpled once more.

  At this sight, Jaki’s father crossed the room and put his arm around her shoulders. “Mija, don’t worry. I’m sure the cat’s okay. Can I get you something to calm you down? The doctor left some pills. . . .”

  “No,” the singer snapped. “Not going down that road again, ever. I’m fine.”

  Hector startled a little at this response, then asked her, “Want some of your tea?”

  Jaki drew a deep breath. “Maybe. The chamomile?”

  Mira went to heat some water in the small coffee maker on the room’s corner bar. Meanwhile, I commented to Jaki, “I like that stuff myself. My best friend runs a health food store, and she got me into all sorts of herbal teas.”

  She managed a smile and called over to her cousin, “Cassie will have a tea, too.”

  Mira brought us both white ceramic mugs branded with the words BRADBURNE HOTEL in burgundy letters, with tea bags steeping in them. Then she discreetly left me and Jaki alone again. From this exchange, I got a brief glimpse of the slightly spoiled celebrity who felt free to give orders even to her relatives.

  While we both sipped the calming brew, I tried to reassure Jaki that she and Mira didn’t need to feel stupid for handing Gordie over to the stranger with the flashlight. “Whoever’s got him obviously planned out this whole stunt. I’ll bet the guard surprised him, but other than that, he thought of everything and was very clever.”

  “I guess that’s true,” Jaki admitted. “Still, I should’ve been more careful. Y’see, I’ve known for a while that some creep out there was stalking me. That was the reason we requested extra security at the expo.”

  I nodded. “Perry did mention something about that. You’ve gotten thre
ats?”

  “It’s hard to say if they’re threats, exactly. I guess all celebrities get nutty calls, letters, e-mails, and tweets these days. Most come from fans who say how much they love you and your music, but even those can get a little creepy. I hardly ever give out my cell phone number, and Mira opens most of my actual mail so she can flag anything too weird. But lately it’s gotten really disturbing.”

  “How?”

  “There have been several, probably all from the same person, saying we were meant to be together, someday soon we will be, and nothing can stop it. He quotes lines from my songs, especially ‘Free Me,’ and seems to think I’m writing to him.”

  Returning with sugar and sweetener for our teas, Mira overheard this. “Yeah, he interprets the words as if Jaki is being held prisoner, like we’re all exploiting her and making her work too hard or something. He thinks it’s up to him to save her.”

  “He also blames Alec for breaking my heart,” Jaki added, with a tilted smile, “but I think he also was glad when Alec got out of the picture, ’cause he thinks it clears the field for him.”

  Sounded pretty bizarre, all right. “And you’ve never met this person?”

  “Not as far as I know. He’s obviously been to some of my concerts, because he’ll mention things that happened onstage at different places I played, little details that weren’t on any official videos. All on the East Coast.” She took a sip of her tea before continuing. “There’s been some more hostile stuff, too. Like he said he tried to get backstage a few times and the security staff wouldn’t let him. He sounded pretty angry at that, really cursing out the security guys.”

  Could be, I thought, that her stalker finally took all of that frustration out on the poor guard at the Bradburne. “I guess no one’s been able to trace these e-mails?”

  Hector joined in. “The cops in LA tried but couldn’t. They said the guy probably sends them from disposable phones, using some kind of fake identity.”

  “That’s not even the part that spooks me the most.” Jaki glanced toward her father and Mira. “My folks still live around here. They’ve had notes left in their mailbox, warning them not to come between him and me, and threatening them if they interfere with our ‘destiny.’ So this creep is probably from somewhere around here—northern Jersey—and he definitely knows where my family lives! I’ve got a younger sister still at home and a brother in college, and now I’m afraid for their safety, too.”

  I remembered what Chris had told me about the garage mechanic who’d been killed a year ago while driving Hector’s car. Could that have been an early salvo? Did the stalker think Jaki’s father was keeping them apart?

  “No one’s ever seen who left the notes?” I asked.

  Mira shook her head. “For a while we asked the local cops to watch the house, but they never caught anyone—he probably was smart enough to avoid them. The Natals’ house is on a couple of acres, and the mailbox is out by the road. Anyone could drive up there quietly, maybe in the middle of the night, and slip a note into it. The messages came from a common model of electronic printer. The police tested a couple of them but didn’t find any fingerprints.”

  “Some of them have been signed, ‘Your last, best hope,’” Jaki added. “That’s a reference, I guess, to my song ‘Free Me.’ It’s got a line, ‘Are you my last, best hope for love?’ That phrase is actually from a speech by Abraham Lincoln that I learned about in school and always liked. Kind of sickening, though, to see it turned around and used against me.”

  This stalker did seem to know how to get into Jaki’s head and manipulate her emotions, I thought. “So you’re thinking this person might have snatched Gordie to get your attention and force you to meet with him?”

  “I think it’s possible, yeah,” Jaki said.

  Hector frowned. “I don’t know . . . these kooky fans are usually just talk. I don’t think he’d have the guts to actually pull off something like this.”

  “You have someone else in mind?” I asked him.

  “That no-good Alec, the space cadet. He gave her the cat, and now that she broke up with him, he wants it back. He couldn’t steal it back himself, o’ course, but he probably hired some thug.”

  “And gave him the okay to kill whoever got in his way?” Mira made a skeptical face.

  Hector shrugged. “The guard wasn’t shot or stabbed, so it might not have been planned. Maybe the goon panicked and pushed him, and it just happened to be fatal. That could be why Alec isn’t owning up to the stunt—it turned out worse than he expected.”

  Silently, I gave Hector credit for putting together another valid theory.

  But Jaki couldn’t accept this. “Alec is a horndog and a cheat, but he’s not crazy. I don’t think he’d do anything so extreme. Though, in one way, I wish he was behind it all. At least I think he’d take good care of Gordie.”

  Hector snorted. “He’s an anguila. He gave you a sick cat to begin with. . . .”

  “Gordie’s sick?” I asked her.

  She waved a hand. “Not exactly, but he has a couple of chronic issues. Even though he’s only four, he’s got some arthritis and the beginnings of kidney disease. I give him some mild pain medication if he seems to need it.”

  “Also, he gets a special diet and lots of water,” Mira added.

  “He goes to a vet for checkups every four months,” said Jaki. “I told Alec about all that, so at least he knows. But I’ve kept it quiet otherwise. Even if my stalker has read everything I ever tweeted, or said in an interview, he won’t know how to care for Gordie. Plus, with the stress of being stolen like that and taken God knows where . . .” She choked up again.

  I felt pressure to help her solve the crisis. “Any chance that someone just stole him to get a ransom from you?”

  “Nobody’s asked for money so far,” said Hector. “It’s too bad, really. At least that might give us some chance to trace whoever took him.”

  “I asked the police detective if I should go on Twitter and offer a reward,” Jaki said, “but she thought that might just bring more crazies out of the woodwork.”

  “Probably true.” I turned back to Hector. “I agree that the thief probably didn’t intend to kill the guard. And like you said, even if he originally planned to contact you, he could be afraid to now. If it were just a matter of getting the cat back, he’d figure you might be willing to negotiate with him. But now he may have committed murder.”

  I felt Jaki watching me closely as I spoke to her father. Whether she reacted to my words or just the chamomile tea, by the time I faced her again, she’d gotten some healthy color back and looked almost excited. “Perry told me that you’ve worked with the SPCA and the police to rescue cats and even solve murders. If you can help me get Gordie back, I’ll pay whatever you ask!”

  This flustered me, especially after we’d just been discussing ransom, and I heard Hector clear his throat.

  “Jaki, I’ve never taken money in any of those situations, and I couldn’t take it from you,” I said. “I’m not a professional investigator, and I may not be able to do anything more than the cops can, but at least I can make Gordie my highest priority. I’ll be working at the expo through tomorrow, and my mother is involved in the show at the hotel, helping a friend with his cat. So we all can keep an eye out for anyone who’s acting suspicious, and I can ask some questions.”

  Hector shuffled restlessly again. “I just want to get Jaki out of this hotel, now that this maniac has targeted her.”

  “She’s got a contract,” Mira pointed out tactfully. “She has to perform tonight. They’ve sold out the concert.”

  Jaki ran both hands back through her thick, wavy hair, leaving it disheveled. “Oh, Dios . . . I can’t imagine going onstage like this. Maybe if it was just one song . . . but doing a whole show?”

  “I won’t allow it,” her father insisted. “The guy could take a shot at you.”

  “There won’t be anyone in the room except official staff and ticket holders. . . .” said Mi
ra.

  “How well did that work last time, for the interview? And how do we know this bastardo might not plunk down the three hundred bucks just for the chance to hurt her?”

  I checked the time and realized I needed to get back to my van for my ten o’clock demo. “I’m so sorry, folks . . . I’m supposed to be someplace else now. Jaki, I’ll be in touch as soon as I have any information. Just let me know if you do decide to cancel the concert and leave early.”

  She thanked me and saw me to the door of the suite. There she confided, “I wish I could go looking for this creep myself! Maybe I could wear a disguise or something, and snoop around. But you can see”—she nodded toward her father and her cousin—“they’d never let me take that chance, and I guess they’re right.”

  “They absolutely are,” I warned her. “Even if you found this person, there’s no telling what he, or she, might do to you.”

  Jaki nodded in surrender. “Anyhow, no matter what we decide about the concert, Cassie, I don’t see how I can bear to leave the hotel, at least not before Sunday. Whoever took Gordie probably has him stashed somewhere nearby. Until I know I can get him back . . . I’ve got to stay here.”

  Chapter 10

  Still in a daze, and wondering how I’d ended up volunteering to do crowd surveillance for Jaki Natal and her handlers, I got myself back down to my van by ten.

  Becky knew I’d spent the past hour in the presence of one of her idols and eyed me with intense curiosity. I didn’t know how much I should tell her about the meeting, though. At any rate, we needed to get on with our grooming demonstration.